Six Impossible Things
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Or in which Draco realizes exactly how much Charlie has changed his life.:: For Sam.


A/N: For Sam who made me ship these two. Written for the HP Potions Comp (Dragon Poison) and the If You Dare Challenge (625. Six impossible things before breakfast)

I. Peace

His eyes flutter open, and he isn't covered in a cold sweat. His fingers aren't stiff and sore because he hasn't spent the night gripping the sheets for dear life.

Draco can't remember the last time he's slept through the night. For months, he's dreamt only of darkness- Dark Marks burning upon flesh, the Cruciatus Curse ripping through his every nerve with each failure, Crabbe's dying screams as his final curse turned on him, the cries of the innocent. None of those things have haunted him this time.

For once, he wakes with a smile on his face and a light heart within his chest.

II. Not Alone

He turns over, his heart forgetting how to function when he sees Charlie beside him, all tanned skin and bare-chested glory.

For a moment, he wonders if there's a connection. Should he put two and two together? Charlie is there, and the bad dreams are at bay.

Of course, Draco doesn't believe in that sentimental, romantic shit.

III. Happy

Still, seeing Charlie there makes him smile.

It's been happening a lot lately, always with Charlie around. His signature arrogant smirk has been replaced almost permanently by a softer upward curve of his lips.

Draco isn't as angry anymore. He no longer has to mask fear and self-pity with typical, haughty Slytherin behavior. He's happy now, genuinely happy.

Now, he can't deny the link. The day Charlie entered his life, the nightmares slowly faded, and joy came to stay.

IV. Unlikely Civility

Charlie stirs beside him, brown eyes peeking through sleep-heavy lids. "Morning," he yawns.

There's that smile again, stretching until Draco feels a faint burning in his jaw. He worries that if he keeps this up, his face might break.

"Morning," Draco echoes. "Sleep well?"

The older man sits up, stretching and popping his back. "Fine," he answers with a quick peck to his boyfriend's cheek. "I noticed you did, too. No nightmares, then?"

Draco shakes his head in confirmation.

The whole situation is still a bit of a shock. If anyone had told him even half a year ago that, one day, he'd be friendly with a Weasley, Draco would have scoffed before delivering some nasty remark. The thought of Malfoys rubbing elbows with Weasleys is nothing short of ridiculous.

And yet, there they are. No anger, no prejudice. Only gentle words and kind smiles.

"C'mon," Charlie murmurs, fighting a yawn. I'll make breakfast."

V.

Draco follows Charlie into the kitchen like a lost puppy.

It's such a strange feeling as he watches Charlie bang pans about and hum. A warm, wonderful, strange feeling.

He's always had a roof over his head and a life of luxury at his feet. But Draco has never had a home, not really.

There has only ever been Malfoy Manor. There's only been a cold, formal place that's never held those warm connotations that "home" holds.

Never, until now, in a cramped and cluttered little flat with Charlie.

VI. Love

"You're staring," Charlie calls, a chuckle in his voice, as he flips the eggs with a grace that Draco can't help but envy.

Draco wonders how Charlie knows. His back is to Draco, and Charlie hasn't spared him a single glance. "Sorry."

The loose set of Charlie's shoulders shows that he doesn't mind. Still humming, he gives the eggs another expert flip.

Draco can't tear his eyes away. Even doing something as mundane as cooking, Charlie looks so bloody beautiful.

"I love you," Draco blurts out before he can stop himself.

It's the first time that word has been dropped, and Draco worries it's too soon. His stomach knots as he waits for Charlie to panic just as the younger wizard is panicking now.

"I love you, too," Charlie says easily and without hesitation.

Draco feels his heart flutter as he's reduced to a grinning fool.

Fuck.

If this goes on, Draco might grow to believe in that sentimental, romantic shit after all.

Still, he supposes stranger things happen every day.


End file.
